


there's something wretched about this (something so precious about this)

by amessofgaywords



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, also they happen to adopt a child accidentally, and alex is trying very hard to keep everyone in line, and she is not doing a good job, but she's a softie inside, it's a road trip fic crossed with a criminal fic, kara meanwhile has no idea what she's gotten into, lena's a little crazy and also very reckless, she likes to swear a lot in this to demonstrate her dominance, you got the best of both worlds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2019-11-08 19:27:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17987222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amessofgaywords/pseuds/amessofgaywords
Summary: The girl chuckles, shaking her head. Then she’s turning, and somehow, inexplicably, she’s pulling a gun from the back of her shorts and aiming it at the cash register.Kara closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.Of course. The one girl that is literally the embodiment of a goddess is the stupid criminal.or lena's a wild child, kara is way out of her league, and they both just happen to be fugitives. what could go wrong? (so, so much).





	1. don't ever tame your demons (always keep them on a leash)

**Author's Note:**

> i've now officially watched the from eden music video too many times in preparation for writing this. in my defense, however, it is a very good music video that totally hasn't ever made me cry.
> 
> i don't know how regular updates will be, but i'll do my best.
> 
> fic title is from aforementioned song by hozier. chapter title is from arsonist's lullabye, also by hozier.

It’s bloody _hot _in the desert.  
  
This is something Lena Luthor did not predict.  
  
Sure, the Luthor blood was purely German, but Lena had a little bit of her mother’s Irish in her and she burned easily. Not to mention, the sun was bright and no pair of aviators could protect her from its rays, or from sweating her ass off every time she got out of her car.  
  
Or sat in her car, because her AC was broken.  
  
In hindsight, buying the blue 73 Ford Cortina convertible simply for the aesthetic was maybe _not _the smartest plan, but Lena was not thinking in hindsight, and now she has a broken car and no way to fix it.  
  
That’s why she’s here, in a shitty drugstore, trying not to vomit at the stench of the homeless man to her left, and also trying to pretend she’s actually interested in a twelve pack of Trojan condoms.  
  
It is, however, not why she was driving an old car bought for an exorbitant amount of money around Fuck-all-ville, California instead of… well, anywhere her parents wanted her to be. If she had known it would be this scalding, she would have chosen to drive to Vancouver.  
  
She could be in an air-conditioned mansion right now, relaxing in a thousand-dollar chaise lounge and sipping Long Island iced tea. Instead, she's perusing personal health items at a terrifying gas station in the middle of nowhere, wearing ripped denim shorts and a cotton tank top that's two sizes too small, with a pair of aviators perched on her head, her hair frizzy from the humidity.  
  
She could also be married right now, with her degree taken away from her, on her way to becoming the perfect trophy wife.  
  
So it was obvious what the better option was.  
  
She had done her best, truly, to be what her parents wanted her to be, but a smarmy, rich husband, three kids, and endless photo ops for the rest of her life just wasn’t happening.  
  
Lena remembered when Lex had been appointed CEO, even though he was barely done with college, even though he was already on his way to becoming one of the men Lillian wanted her to marry, too rich for their own good with little intelligence and a lot of lackluster charisma. She remembered being passed over like she didn’t even exist.  
  
And then, Lillian approached her with Morgan Edge, and that was just not okay.  
  
Morgan Edge was almost a decade older than her, almost balding and ugly as hell, and, most despicably, _new money _. He was sort of overweight, definitely an idiot, and, to add insult to injury, male, which Lena found more contemptuous than anything else.  
  
Marrying Morgan Edge meant starting the domestic-housewife-who-cooks-dinner-every-night-and-does-laundry-every-day life Lena had been avoiding for years. It meant letting go of her dreams of becoming an engineer, meant losing everything she had worked towards for six years. It meant denying her true nature, filling her life up with things that meant nothing to her.  
  
And so, she ran away.  
  
Really, it was all rational.  
  
She packed up some things, emptied her bank account, and used it to buy a car, a gun, some food, and a new, untraceable cell phone. She didn’t leave a note to her mother, but she did leave some fuck-you flowers on the counter. An appropriate message for ruining her life, she thought.  
  
She’d always been a bad girl, almost off her rocker, just on the right side of crazy. She’d wanted to let loose her whole life, but her carefully structed world, her goals, hadn’t allowed her to. Until now, at least.  
  
So she took off. Drove all the way from Metropolis to middle of nowhere, California. Pillaged and stole her way down the Californian coast (she would have done really well as a pirate).  
  
And it’s _fun _. For the first time in her life, she can truly say that she’s enjoying herself, every second of what she’s doing. It’s why she has no intention of stopping, and why she’s currently readying herself to steal once again, this time from a gas station along an empty road in the desert.  
  
The place is relatively empty, save for two attendants smoking at the counter (no way that’s allowed or legal, they look about fifteen) and the aforementioned homeless man, who is staring very intently at his ham sandwich, and, on second thought, is probably stoned. She places a water bottle and box of tampons on the counter and hums nonchalantly as she waits for one of the prepubescent teens to check her out.  
  
One of the attendants, a pimply, gangly kid, steps forward to ring her up, looking bored and more than a little baked. Lena leans back on her heels, crosses her arms, sliding one around her back to clasp the arm of her Browning Hi-Pistol.  
  
“This it?” The boy asks, yawning. Lena nods, a smirk taking over her features as she readies herself.  
  
She pulls the pistol from the back of her shorts and shoots the ceiling once, then levels it at the attendant (a little collateral ceiling damage is nothing compared to dramatic effect).  
  
The kid yelps, jumps backwards. “What the hell, dude? What the fuck a’ you doing?”  
  
The other attendant runs to the back room, but Lena levels her gun at him. “Call the police and I shoot. I just want the cash.”  
  
The kid nods, raises his hands. _At least he has some sense. _  
  
Lena checks for the other attendant, but he’s nowhere to be found. Of course the little bitch ran away, he’d probably pissed himself too (interesting to note the other man hadn’t moved, _yep, definitely stoned _). Lena vaults the counter and opens the till, bypassing the security code with a touch of the hot barrel of her gun to the mechanism, which melts instantly. She takes the money from the drawer, clicks the safety on her gun, and holsters it again, counting the bills with practiced precision.  
  
“Thanks,” she mutters, and lets the door slam behind her.  
  
Just enough for a new radiator, and maybe a beer tonight if she’s lucky. If not, there’s another station down the road.  
  
\---  
  
“And in today’s most recent news, Lex Luthor, newly crowned CEO of LuthorCorp, blew up one of his own buildings today, still populated with upwards of five hundred people…”  
  
Kara bites at her thumbnail, eyes focused intently on the screen in front of her. Her morning, so far, has been consumed by… whatever this was. Metropolis’ golden boy, one of the most prominent names in tech, going crazy and murdering hundreds of people.  
  
The news had spread quickly, and now three of CatCo’s most esteemed journalists were on the first flight up to LuthorCorp headquarters for the exclusive. Kara, however, was not one of them.  
  
“I heard the sister went missing a couple days ago,” someone says to Kara’s left. Half the bullpen is standing in front of the TV in CatCo’s lobby, watching the daily news intently (instead of writing their own articles, which is probably more productive).  
  
“I heard the whole family was planning something. Insurance fraud and a bunch of shady prototypes. Probably smart to try and hide when she did.”  
  
Kara barely spares a glance at the conversations around her, trying to absorb as much information as she can. _If only Cat Grant had put her on that plane. _She could be in Metropolis right now, writing the story that could finally propel her up the journalistic totem pole, finally doing something that would make her perfect cousin look at her with begrudging respect.  
  
Instead, she’s watching someone else’s news and finishing up a fluff piece on puppy adoption (not that she doesn’t love puppy adoption, she does, it’s just really not the time, you know?).  
  
Her phone vibrates in her pocket, and she fishes it out without taking her eyes off of the screen in front of her. “Hello?”  
  
“Kara, thank god. I was hoping I’d catch you. Is now a good time?”  
  
Kara furrows her brow. “Alex? You sound stressed.”  
  
“Well, that’s what happens when the CEO of one of the biggest tech companies in the world goes batshit crazy at the same time as some random girl starts driving around shooting up gas stations in the middle of Zzyzx.”  
  
Kara is even more confused. “Zzyzx? Is that a real place?”  
  
“Hell yeah, and it’s under our jurisdiction. You know, when I moved out of the city, I thought I would be escaping all this nonsense.”  
  
Alex, Kara’s sister, had moved to San Bernardino a year ago to be with her wife, Sam, and step-daughter, Ruby, exchanging big-city cop life for a small-town flatfoot job and a roomy house in the desert. It was beautiful, but not quite Kara’s style.  
  
Alex is still talking. “Anyway, the powers that be have moved, like, six of our ten officers up to Metropolis to take care of this whole LuthorCorp thing, and now, between traffic and daily patrol, we barely have anyone left to deal with the crazy chick with the gun.”  
  
“Yeah, but in a one-stoplight town, who needs traffic control anyway?” Kara jokes, chuckling. “How’s Sam dealing with all this?”  
  
Sam works for the police station as the go-between to the San Bernardino Tribune, which Kara figures is just as busy as CatCo currently is, despite being a smaller paper.  
  
“That’s actually why I’m calling. With half their staff upstate, they need someone to write up the story on the gas station shooter, get in a tip line, all that. And I know you’re not doing anything, so… I may have offered you for the job.”  
  
Kara splutters, indignant. “I- I could have been doing something! I could have been running the Luthor story!”  
  
Alex scoffs into the phone. “Yeah, right. You’re a rookie reporter, and you’re related to the guy that sued LuthorCorp and their subsidiaries for all they were worth last year. No way Cat Grant puts you on a story where you have such obvious bias.” Alex sighed. “Besides, Sam is stressing and I don’t like it when she’s stressed. Can’t you just do this as a favor to us? The Tribune’ll pay and it’s only a one time thing, I swear.”  
  
Kara looks up at the TV, still airing footage of, _oh, would you look at that, Clark’s trial last summer _, and at her colleagues around her, gossiping insipidly. She looks at her desk, where the image of her article, headlined _The Cutest Puppies You’ve Ever Seen Want to Come Home with You! _is still displayed. She looks out the window, where there are a thousand stories just waiting to be printed with her name as the byline.  
  
“Fine. I’ll be there by noon.”  
  
\---  
  
It turns out that gas stations in Zzyzx aren’t heavily populated midafternoon on Wednesdays.  
  
Kara learns this as she pulls up outside one of them, sweating in the blinding sun and feeling distinctly on edge.  
  
There’s literally no one around. The almost flat ground spans out for miles around her, only interrupted by the occasional gentle slope and sparse palm. She can see raised hills in the distance, but they’re obscured by fog and seem far enough away as if to be imaginary. The city is a distant memory.  
  
The gas station itself has been the only structure for miles. _No wonder this girl decided to target it, _Kara thinks. _No one could hear them scream. _  
  
She immediately shudders from the strange thought.  
  
Shouldering her bag and readying a notepad, Kara heads into the dismal store.  
  
Inside, there are two young guys in uniforms nervously smoking at the counter, and a man sitting beside them in ratty clothes eating a hot dog slowly, and with increasing lethargy. When the attendants notice her, they stand up straighter and tap out their cigarettes.  
  
“You the reporter they sent?” One of them asks. He’s pale, with bright freckles and a mop of messy hair under his baseball cap.  
  
Kara looks around to see if there’s anyone else around. “Uh, yeah, I guess that’s me.”  
  
“You guess?” The other attendant, a taller, buffer guy with a trace of stubble along his jaw questions.  
  
“I mean yes, yes, I am.” Kara flips her notepad to a fresh page and clicks open her pen. “Could you tell me your names?”  
  
“I’m Kyle, that’s Bell.” The freckled kid says. “You gonna tell people that?”  
  
Kara shakes her head. “Not if you don’t want me to. Could you tell me exactly what happened here earlier today?”  
  
Bell opens his mouth, but Kyle talks over him. “Chick comes in here. Looks like a high schooler. Wanders around, she picks up some food, and I’m like, ‘sweet, I’ll check you out, sweetheart,’ but, like, not like that, if you know what I mean. She’s like real uptight, one of those real bitch types, y’know?” The Kyle kid laughs, and Bell chuckles softly but keeps his eyes focused on Kara, who’s cringing at the kid’s attitude. “But, whatever, she just whips out this gun, man, and I’m like, whoa, but whatevs, and then I ran away and Bell here tried to call the cops, but she said she’d shoot ‘im, so he waited until she’d left and then he did it.”  
  
Bell affirms this story with a nod. Kara scribbles notes furiously. “What about him?” She gestures to the man at the bar with her pen. “Was he here?”  
  
“He’s high,” Bell says with authority. Kara furrows her brow, but doesn’t make a note.  
  
“Is that all that happened?” She asks. Both attendants nod. “Where did she shoot?”  
  
The kids show her the holes in the ceiling where the plaster fell in dust to the ground, then the melted keypad for security (faint outline of a gun barrel, the thief was resourceful), and the empty drawer.  
  
Despite her still-growing contempt for the two lazy teenagers, Kara questions them for a little while longer, ending with the ever important “what direction did she drive off in?”  
  
Bell points down the road, in a direction that reads, in shaky spray-paint letters, _Devil’s Creeck. _The misspelling makes it seem even more ominous. “Thataways. Probably going down to the city, it’s about an hour in that direction.”  
  
“What’s Devil’s Creek?” Kara asks innocently, but Bell shakes his head.  
  
“Is that all, ma’am?”  
  
“Yes, thank you. Your names won’t be mentioned, I promise.” At the last second, Kara buys a handful of candy bars, at least to put a little money in their empty till, then runs away towards her car.  
  
_I guess I’m going to the creek. _  
  
\---  
  
Kara knows, honestly, that there is a woman driving around shooting up gas stations.  
  
But in her defense, she really needs gas.  
  
The place is a little bigger than the last one, but there’s no more people around. A middle-aged attendant with stringy blonde hair and an aura that reeks of bad decisions, a guy who looks like a tourist wrangling with a map in the corner, and a mom and kid in the candy aisle.  
  
There’s also a woman in a worn-out floral tank top and dirty jean shorts, her hair in a messy ponytail, examining bags of chips, trying very hard not to make eye contact with anyone.  
  
She’s also holding the only bag of Kara’s favorite chips.  
  
“Hey, how much could I pay you for those?”  
  
The woman’s head snaps up, and Kara corrects herself. _Girl _. She can’t be over 20.  
  
She has bright green eyes that overshadow her other features, shining out from under hooded eyelids and dark eyeliner like ports in a storm. Her hair is a deep, rich brown, almost black, but there’s a hint of gray at it, like she recently got covered in dust (in this environment, anything is possible). Her face is a little shiny from sweat and her cheeks are dusted with the same grey stuff, giving her an altogether messy, youthful look.  
  
Her eyes are wide, and she stammers as she hands them over. “Uh, yeah, sure, I don’t care.”  
  
She practically thrusts the bag into Kara’s hands. The reporter cocks her head as the girl closes her eyes, takes a deep breath.  
  
When she opens them, the port has disappeared in her eyes, replaced by raging rain and winds.  
  
“If you’ll excuse me,” she says as she breezes past, low and guttural, and the voice does _things _to Kara, things it probably shouldn’t do.  
  
“Wait!” Kara says, without even really knowing why. The girl keeps going, but flips her head. When Kara raises an eyebrow, she stops, but doesn’t move back.  
  
“What?” She questions, all bite.  
  
“I mean, if you wanted them-” Kara tries and fails to come up with an excuse.  
  
The girl chuckles, shaking her head. “I’m good. But thanks, darling.” Then she’s turning, and somehow, inexplicably, she’s pulling a gun from the back of her shorts and aiming it at the cash register.  
  
“Nobody move. I just want the cash.”  
  
Kara closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.  
  
_Of course. The one girl that is literally the embodiment of a goddess is the stupid criminal. _  
  
She can practically __hear _ _Alex rolling her eyes.  
  
\---  
  
Lena wants to _smile _, and that isn’t okay.  
  
Whoever the girl is who wanted her bag of chips, then tried to give them back to her, is making her want to __smile _ _, even though she’s in the middle of trying to burgle a gas station, and it’s throwing a random, annoying wrench in her plans.  
  
The people around her step back. The mother wraps a protective arm around her son, and Lena feels a pang of something akin to longing, something that she absolutely should __not _ _feel right now.  
  
What is it with this gas station and inconvenient feelings?  
  
The woman at the counter reaches for the phone, but Lena swiftly points the gun at her hand instead. “I’d think twice about that, if I were you.”  
  
The woman frowns, clearly not impressed. “Darlin’, you and your pistol don’t scare me. Whatever boy you’re trying to impress, he’s not going to go for you in that shirt.”  
  
Lena frowns, a growl attempting to work its way up through her throat. _If only I’d invested in that heavier gun. I’d show her who I’m trying to impress. _  
  
Her finger is squeezing the trigger, and in the split-second she releases, so many things happen.  
  
There’s a shout, and the door crashes in, glass scattering everywhere, with dust from the ceiling as Lena’s hand jumps and the bullet goes up instead. She trips over her feet and falls on her back, something tight wrapped around her waist. There’s another shot, but not from her gun, and then she’s aware of a warm weight covering her, and the unmistakable voices of… mercenaries.  
  
Luthor mercenaries.  
  
__Well, shit. _ _  
  
The warm weight shifts, and suddenly Lena understands that it’s a person, a person with a swingy, soft blonde ponytail and __rock-hard _ _abs, and, oh, of course it’s the blonde who wanted her chips.  
  
Jesus fuck.  
  
“Do you see her?” a gruff voice asks, and although Lena doesn’t recognize it, the next voice that speaks, she does.  
  
“No. But the car outside matches the description we were given. She must have run. Send three of your men outside and guard all exits. We’ll find her.”  
  
_Lex. _  
  
Lena can’t see much more than broken ceiling and blonde hair, but there are footsteps, and then the body on top of her is shifting and breathing hard, and she’s aware that this girl is covering her. Protecting her.  
  
It’s a nice sentiment, but Luthors are like bloodhounds. They always know one of their own.  
  
As if she’s thought it into existence, the footsteps move closer, and she swears she can hear Lex’s unmistakable deep breaths, the kind he makes when he’s about to crack a big experiment, they’re so close to being found out, she grips the girl’s waist and whispers “I’m so sorry” in her ear, and then-  
  
There’s more shouting, and a crash, and someone says “police!”  
  
The girl on top of her springs up, and murmurs something that sounds like “Alex, thank god,” trying to pull Lena up with her, even though she resists.  
  
“No, shit, hide me-” but it’s too late. The blonde is standing straight now, and Lena is right out in the open.  
  
It’s deadly silent for a moment. Lex stares down at her, simply taking her in. The police look at the gun, still clasped tightly in her hand. A short-haired redhead, who seems to be in charge, moves her gun quickly to point at Lena’s chest. The blonde turns and looks down at her, a mix of emotions across her face.  
  
And then it explodes into chaos.  
  
Three shots explode in her direction, one from the redheaded cop, two from dark-suited men on either side of Lex. She skitters out of the way, and the bullets bounce against the ground, breaking through the linoleum and lodging next to her hands and feet. The blonde girl glares in the direction of the cops and steps forward, and in a swift movement, Lena is over her shoulder.  
  
“Put me down!” she shouts, but there’s more screaming, a lot of shooting from Lex’s direction, a garbled shout from the little boy, someone yelling “don’t hurt him!” Lex screaming “Helena Lutessa Luthor!” and then Lena’s outside.  
  
“Which is yours?” The girl asks in her ear.  
  
“Blue Cortina. Windows down,” Lena breathes out, lungs crushed against the girl’s sizable shoulders.  
  
Seconds later, she’s being thrown down on the back seat. The girl moves, presumably to get in the front seat, but Lena’s scrambling to the driver’s seat of the car, digging into her pocket for the key, starting it as quickly as possible, and peeling out of the parking lot in the time it takes the other girl to slide into the other seat and sit down.  
  
“Lena!” someone, presumably Lex, roars down the road, but Lena’s driving away, cackling, free and loose, the wind in her hair.  
  
She looks at the girl next to her, hair tousled, gripping the armrest with fear in her eyes, chest raising and lowering, betraying her exhilaration. “That’s me,” Lena says. “Lena.”  
  
The girl glances at her, takes the bait. “Kara Danvers.”  
  
Lena smirks. “Well, Kara Danvers, I hope you like going fast.”  
  
The skidding of her tires and the sound of her laugh drowns out Lex’s final gunshot.__________________________________________________________


	2. it's not the war but what's behind it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Could you fill Frank for me?” Lena asks, pulling Kara from her own mind. Her arms are dangling over the edge of the open window, sunglasses carelessly falling off her nose.
> 
> Kara hesitates. Frank is, ostensibly, the car, and it seems odd that a girl so aloof and seemingly mature (and also about to go shoot up a gas station) has named her car something so… juvenile, ridiculous, even. It seems… soft, at odds with the hardscrabble, take-what-you-can personality Lena has exhibited thus far, and Kara has a sudden urge to dig deeper, find all of those cute little idiosyncrasies about the woman in front of her and bring them to light.
> 
>  
> 
> _Okay, slow down here, she’s a criminal, fugitive, and possible murderer. Save the mushy-gushy for another day._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and we return to our regularly scheduled programming, aka lena being utterly reckless and kara being utterly wrecked. they're running from gunfire, buying clothes, and stealing children. you know, wholesome couple things.
> 
> title is from nina cried power by, you guessed it, hozier (are we sensing a theme yet?)

Kara has been in a rundown car with a criminal for two hours, and so far, she has managed not to throw herself down onto the street and hope for the best. She considers it an accomplishment.

Lena is… interesting. She’s commented on the state of Kara twice (“you look like you could use a bath, sweetheart” and “are you sure you don’t want to borrow some new clothes?”) and Kara herself once (“stop being so uptight,” in response to a random burst of speed on a deserted highway. However, she did slow down right after). She seems to be the silent, stoic, occasionally bitchy type, at least until she sees fit to make proper conversation.

“So… do you, um…” she says “um” with a slight accent, and it’s another detail Kara’s noticed that makes her want to know more about the woman sitting next to her. “Do… um… do you want to go back?”

Kara shrugs. “No. You’d get shot.”

“Right.” Lena purses her lips. “But you left your car back there.”

Kara holds up her satchel. “Everything I need is right here.”

Lena nods, and they’re silent for another little while. The inside of the car is sticky and hot, and Kara is a little afraid to put the windows down.

Eventually, her writer’s brain gets the best of her, and she asks “why are you out here shooting up gas stations, anyway?”

Lena sighs. “My parents.”

“Your parents told you to go rob a gas station?”

“No, my parents tried to set me up with a husband and I ran away, and then I robbed a gas station,” Lena says, deadpan, and Kara snorts despite herself.

“Let me guess, you want to be an actress or something.”

Lena side-eyes her, and it reminds her so strongly of Alex that she does a double take. “No, I’m not a twelve-year-old girl. I have a degree in biochemical engineering. I like cars. I don’t like husbands.”

“And your parents don’t approve.”

“No, not really. I wanted to go work, make a name and a life for myself, but they weren’t really… into that. At least, not for me.”

“So they really tried to set you up with someone? Like, some sort of arranged marriage?” Kara questions, even though she thinks she probably shouldn’t.

Lena gives her a look, questioning and confused, but explains. “My parents are… something. My brother inherited the family company, and I’m expected to be the perfect wife. I… don’t really want to be the perfect wife, so I left.” She pauses. “That’s who those men in suits were, back there. Family mercenaries. Lex probably hired them to track me down.”

Kara’s brow furrows. _Family company. My parents are… something. Mercenaries. Lex._ “Wait, hold on. Is your name Luthor like… Lex Luthor?”

Lena bites her lip. Her nod is slow, almost as if she’s not sure. There’s hesitation in her eyes.

They reach a shoulder in the road, and she pulls over. “Go on, it’s fine.”

“What?”

“You want to get out, don’t you? Get away from the crazy Luthor.” Lena’s eyes are soft, almost sad, through her sunglasses, and her hair is falling out of her ponytail, framing her face and making her look younger than she probably is.

Kara thinks it through. This could be her break. The Luthors are prime news right now, and this is the story she’s been waiting for. _Luthor daughter turns to criminal activity after feeling disenfranchised by cruel family._ It’s definitely enough to get her a byline, maybe even front page. Cat Grant might actually smile at her for once.

Then she sees Lena, with her eyes and her soft-looking face and dirty clothes and car full of stolen cash, and Kara sees the real story. The one she doesn’t know all of yet, and the one she has no right to tell.

“No. No, I’m good. Keep driving."

\---

They stop at a convenience store slightly larger than the ones they’ve been passing, with a gas pump out front. Lena must decide it’s prime target material, because she pulls over near said gas pump, sticks her pistol down the back of her shorts, and gets out of the car.

Kara’s barely paying attention, still thinking over what Lena told her. It’s far too detailed for it to be a flat-out lie, but Lena has already proved to be partially insane and very dangerous, so Kara wouldn’t put it past her.

“Could you fill Frank for me?” The woman in question asks, pulling Kara from her own mind. Her arms are dangling over the edge of the open window, sunglasses carelessly falling off her nose.

Kara hesitates. Frank is, ostensibly, the car, and it seems odd that a girl so aloof and seemingly mature (and also about to go shoot up a gas station) has named her car something so… juvenile, ridiculous, even. It seems… soft, at odds with the hardscrabble, take-what-you-can personality Lena has exhibited thus far, and Kara has a sudden urge to dig deeper, find all of those cute little idiosyncrasies about the woman in front of her and bring them to light.

_Okay, slow down here, she’s a criminal, fugitive, and possible murderer. Save the mushy-gushy for another day._

“Um… yeah, sure.” Kara opens the door and moves around the car, grabbing the pump and opening the port as she watches Lena walk with confident air to the door of the station, throw it open, and go about her routine of pretending she’s not about to clear them of all money.

It seems slightly domestic to her, for some reason. _Oh, yes, dear, let me just fill the tank for you while you bring the bacon home by stealing from some unsuspecting people in the middle of the desert. We’ll go to Home Depot after, maybe grab some dinner at Applebee’s._

Kara is chuckling at her little joke when Lena comes running out of the store backwards, gun aimed at the store, yelling, “get in!"

Kara wrenches the hose out of Frank (it’s a cute name, kind of, it suits the temperamental little guy) and slams the port shut, skidding across the sweating, sweltering pavement to get to the passenger door. Her shoes make loud squeaking noises as she falls forward into the seat. Lena is already driving as fast as possible, one-handed, taking a shot when she can.

Kara hears a shout behind them and turns to see two men in a black car skidding away, a good bit behind them on the road. A shot whizzes past the car and lands in the dirt, then another on the other side.

“They’re aiming for the tires,” Lena grunts as she tugs on the wheel. “They’re trying to shoot the car.”

A fork appears in the road, and Lena’s eyes light up with an idea. She tosses her gun into Kara’s lap. “Hold on tight!” Lena yells over the revving of the engine, and, in perfect time with the next shot behind them, she turns the car wildly and skids, drifting along one side of the split. Kara is thrust to the wall of the car as it slides a little into the dirt by the road. There’s a loud screeching noise, Kara shakes violently in her seat, head crashing forwards, and then nothing.

They wait for a second, catching their breath, then Lena switches the gear, revs the engine, and pulls off down the road like it’s nothing.

“What the hell was that?” Kara asks when they’re far enough away that Lena has both hands on the wheel again.

“Cops. Must have found us. I let them think they blew our tires. It’ll throw them off our path. But that was too close,” Lena says, slamming her hands on the steering wheel. “Damn it!”

Kara jumps, startled. “Calm down. We just need to be more discreet. No more gas station thefts, okay?”

“Yeah, or you could just tell that cop you know not to come looking for us,” Lena grumbles under her breath. It feels like an accusation, and Kara ignores it.

It’s silent for a moment, then Lena straightens. “Well, we can lay low for tonight, and I can bring you back home along the coast tomorrow."

Kara doesn’t respond. Despite the outside heat, the mood in the car stays chilly for the remainder of the drive.

\---

Lena finally stops at a department store about an hour later.

“Lena, no. We are not robbing a Walmart.” Kara lectures as Lena climbs out of the car.

“No, we’re not. We’re buying clothes from a Walmart.” Lena says, waving a stack of twenties in her face and smirking. “C’mon, goody two shoes. I promise, I’ll be good.”

They head inside, Kara dragging somewhat behind Lena, who, she notices, has not brought her gun. “Here.” Lena drags her to the bargain bin clothing, presents it with a ridiculous flourish of her arms and a cheesy grin. “Sift through this crap, try to find something to wear.”

“Why?” Kara questions, and Lena narrows her eyes.

“We have not only the cops but trained spies tailing us. It’s bad enough we’re in the same car. We should probably lay low.”

Kara shrugs. “Whatever you say, experienced criminal.”

Lena glares and flicks her on the arm.

As the other woman disappears, Kara searches through the bin, tries to find something in her size. All she comes up with are baggy, ripped black jeans and a light blue button down, that, when she tries it on, is a little two tight across the chest, and very long in the arms.

“You good in there?” Lena calls from outside the dingy, grossly stained dressing room as Kara looks herself over.

Her hair is matted, completely out of its neat ponytail at this point. Her glasses have stayed on, but they’re dusty and scratched. Her shoes are scuffed and basically died brown at this point, and the state of the clothes she’s wearing doesn’t help.

She looks… dirty. Unkempt. Not like her usual self.

But she also looks wild, free, and kind of good.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Then let’s see it, stud.” Lena chuckles outside the door, and Kara opens it timidly, unsure why she cares what Lena thinks of her but knowing she does.

Lena herself is wearing a short, cheap looking white cotton dress, a black leather jacket that’s a size too big, and a pair of combat boots with tears at the toe and uneven laces. Her hair has been pulled back into a neater braid, and her sunglasses are shoved in her pocket. She looks like some good ol’ Texas boy’s girlfriend, drinking a beer with the guys in the desert and wearing her sweetheart’s jacket.

In other words, she herself looks wild and kind of really, really good.

Lena’s cheeks have gone red, and she swallows when she thinks Kara isn’t looking, which is confusing (maybe she’s embarrassed about her outfit? Based on what she was wearing when they met, it seems unlikely). The younger woman throws a jacket at her, one of those emo-looking leather ones with a hoodie underneath, and tells her to put it on, also tossing a pair of sunglasses at her. Kara catches both easily.

Lena’s silent as they pay for the clothes and leave the store. When they’re seated back in the car, she starts it up, peels out of the parking lot, and cranks open the window, all without looking at Kara once.

“You okay?” Kara questions her, and she nods stiffly.

“Peachy,” she says, then shakes her head, grins, and laughs. “You got a little something…” she gestures towards Kara’s head, where her long, unbound hair has piled in messy tangles on her head from the wind.

Kara laughs as she undoes it, Lena with her, and the tenseness is gone. 

\---

It seemed Lena’s moods were as fickle as the winds. Currently, she was in an incredibly crabby, sarcastic frame of mind, and also happened to be driving around aimlessly.

They’re circling by the same place they were before, the first gas station Lena had robbed, with the misspelled sign out front. _Devil’s Creeck._

“You know,” Lena says conversationally, “I heard three people were murdered there.”

Kara gives her a look. “What? Devil’s Creek?”

“Yep. It’s a house, according to some guys at the store, and three people were shot right in the living room. Mother, father, daughter, all gone in one night.”

Kara nods, slightly grossed out. “Okay then.”

“We should stay there tonight,” Lena says so nonchalantly Kara almost thinks she’s referring to something else.

“Wait, you mean Devil’s Creek, the house where people got murdered? We should stay there? To sleep?” _This sounds like an awful idea._

“Why not? It’s abandoned, so no one’s likely to stop by, and it’s got… personality.” Lena smirks. “Perfect place for a nice night in.”

Kara almost protests, but then Lena turns down the road the sign is pointing to and she realizes she lost the battle.

\---

By the time they arrive at Devil’s Creek, Kara’s anxiety has slightly ebbed. She’s still not totally on board with staying at the abandoned murder house, but she’ll live (hopefully).

Lena parks Frank (the name really is catching on) a bit away from the house, and Kara approaches it carefully, with tip-toeing footsteps on crunchy leaves and packed dirt. The location of this house is disturbingly dissimilar to the desert locale they’ve been driving through all day. It’s on a rural residential street somewhat off the main road, covered on one side by a magnolia tree and on the other by a detached garage with a collapsed roof. The closest occupied house is two miles away, and it gives Kara a not misplaced sense of anxiety as she cocks her head and observes the façade. Lena shines her flashlight beam over it in a sweeping arc.

They’ve parked in the back, and the only entrance to the house from this side seems to be two screened-in windows, the glass on one partially broken. Lena inspects it with her flashlight, but must deem the edges too jagged, because she slams the side of the house with the palm of her hand and mutters, “shit!”

Kara smirks. “Maybe it’s a sign.”

Lena’s answering glare makes her duck her head to avoid eye contact lest her brain be melted.

Kara scans the place with her eyes, and catches an opening near the oversized stone chimney where the plaster and insulation have peeled away. It’s just big enough that they should be able to fit through it with minimal bodily damage.

She points it out to Lena, who simply smirks and ducks through the crack with little fanfare. Kara sighs and follows after her.

The place is truly broken down. There are rips and stains in the walls, the floor is filthy (makes Kara glad she’s wearing a good pair of sneakers), and there are messes of garbage everywhere. She even thinks she sees one of the dead bodies of the previous residents before she realizes it’s a cardboard cutout doll, covered in a red substance with an alarming number of grotesque doodles on it (kids these days).

Lena’s found the kitchen, and she’s rifling through the cupboards, making as little noise as she possibly can. She murmurs something that sounds like “damn those teenagers” before her head pops around a darkened corner.

Kara’s kicking at something that might resemble a mattress, already regretting agreeing to sleep here (not that she actually agreed), when there’s a shuffling noise from down the hall.

Lena narrows her eyes. “I thought we were alone,” she mouths, and Kara shrugs.

Lena’s hand moves to the pocket of her leather jacket, and Kara rolls her eyes. Of course she brought the gun. Then again, if they are about to face hostile squatter thieves, it’s probably better to be prepared.

The noise, which has been followed by more scuffles and a bang, is coming from a closet in what looks like it could be a living room.

Lena moves to open it, but Kara stands in front of her. Lena grumbles about being “protected like a useless little schoolgirl,” but Kara glares and it shuts her up (surprisingly).

The blonde pushes open the closet door, slowly, ever so slowly…

Inside is a boy.

He lies in a tangle of blankets and garbage, his face and clothes dirty, clutching a backpack and a teddy bear. His wide, silent eyes stare up at them, and in that moment, he seems so vulnerable that Kara can almost feel her heart shatter into a thousand pieces.

If Lena’s gasp is any indication, she’s feeling the same.

Kara squats down. “Hey,” she whispers, but the boy moves away. “Hey, I’m not going to hurt you,” she says.

He stills, but doesn’t speak. Lena follows Kara’s lead and kneels on the ground, her dress spilling around her ankles.

“What’s your name, _macushla_?” The word sounds foreign, but it rolls easily off of Lena’s tongue. The boy shakes his head, and Lena smiles softly, then reaches an arm out, ever so slowly. When he doesn’t scoot away further, she places it on his leg and rubs affectionately.

“We want to help you,” she says, softly and kindly. “Please, it’s okay. We don’t want to hurt you.” Kara is floored by the genuine care in her voice.

Finally, he speaks. His voice is rough and he coughs, but they can hear him. “You might turn me in.” Kara and Lena share a look. “We won’t turn you in,” Lena assures him. “Just tell us your name.”

“Luca,” the boy coughs. He’s cold when Kara lays a hand on him, and he seems to be shivering in the low light. Lena runs a comforting hand over his forehead, and Kara shrugs off her jacket to give it to him.

“Luca, what happened to you?”

The boy’s eyes widen, and he hides his face in the collar of Kara’s jacket. Lena leans in close and whispers in the blonde’s ear.

“What do we do? I want to help him, but I don’t know how.”

“Maybe we could take him somewhere?”

“Yeah, no shit, but where?”

“Seattle,” Luca’s voice cuts in unexpectedly, and both women turn to him. 

“What, sweetie?” Kara asks.

“I have to go to Seattle.” 

“Why?”

At this, he smiles. “Secret.”

It’s a terrible reason, but Kara is out of other options, and something in her is singing to help this boy.

Lena takes one look at Luca, on the floor, quiet and cold, then at Kara, shrugging.

Finally, she blows out a breath, stands, and brushes off her legs. “Well then. I guess we’re going to Seattle.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lena calls luca _macushla_ , which is a transliteration of the irish phrase _mo chuisle_ , meaning literally "my pulse" and, in this context, darling or sweetheart.


	3. the dark caress of someone else (i guess any thrill will do)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Can I ask?” Kara says, after a moment of silence. “Why are you doing this?”
> 
> Lena stares straight ahead, unwilling to give anything away. “I honestly don’t know. That’s what scares the hell out of me.”
> 
> “That you aren’t in control?”
> 
> “No. That I am, and this is the decision I made.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am very much sick, so this is a day later than i planned. however, i hope i make up for it by providing you with that sweet, sweet, supercorp content?
> 
> title from someone new by hozier.

Luca is… admittedly, a pretty cute kid.

Lena watches him in the rearview as she drives; he presses his forehead up against the window, and wayward strands of his dirty hair stick against it. When he pulls his head away, they come off. He giggles at everything, even Kara just wiggling her fingers at him. His smile is wide and gap-toothed, and he waves at passing cars on the road.

Sometime in the early morning, Lena pulls over by a truck stop diner. Kara gives her a look.

“No, I’m not going to rob it,” Lena sighs, glancing over at Luca in the back seat. He’s passed out, tired from driving all night and being so energetic. Unbidden, a smile rises to her face. “But you insisted we drive all night, I’m starving, and the kid probably is too, so why don’t we spend some of that money I’ve stolen on a good, hearty breakfast?”

Kara smiles a little at her then. “I’ll wake him up.”

Kara climbs out of the car, leaning in the backseat, poking Luca’s side. He grumbles, snorts, and then his little eyes peek open and he yawns. Lena checks on him over the back of her seat.

“You good, _macushla_?” She asks him, like it’s natural, like he’s hers.

“I’m good, Lena.” He tells her, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. When he spots the diner out the window, he presses his face to it and cheers.

“Pancakes!”

\---

When Luca has his face buried sufficiently in a pile of pancakes the size of his head, and Kara is similarly fed, Lena gets serious.

“So, Luca,” she says, exchanging a look with Kara, who is _not_ acting like a responsible guardian and rather shoving another piece of bacon in her mouth (who is Lena to talk, she was shooting up a gas station a day ago), “we’re willing to help you get home, but we need to know why going to Seattle is so important.”

Luca frowns and steals a bite of pancake from Kara’s plate. She swats at his sticky hand playfully, and he laughs. Lena gives Kara a reprimanding look, then the same to Luca.

He shrugs. “Told you. It’s a secret.” He mumbles around the pancake in his mouth.

Lena shakes her head, and leans in close. “We have to know, okay? We have to make sure you’re safe.”

Luca’s eyes start to water, infuriatingly. “Momma told me not to tell. She said never to tell.”

Kara jumps in. “Your mom? Is that who we’re taking you to?”

Luca’s shakes his head roughly. His hair flies all around. “Nope. Momma’s gone.”

“What happened to your mom, Luca?”

“She went downstairs.” Luca says, meeting their eyes. Lena furrows her brow, trying to pull… some meaning from that.

“What do you mean, _macushla_? What’s downstairs?”

“Daddy and Sophie too. They all went downstairs. That’s where Momma said they were going, after the big man found them.”

Kara leans in and whispers to Lena, “I think he means hell. He’s saying that his parents were killed.”

Lena gapes. If that were true... His family is dead, and here this kid is, shoving pancakes in his mouth and smiling. He's okay. It baffles her, and Lena’s mind softens at once for the poor little boy, who has seen so much hurt and is still smiling.

“Is there someone who will take care of you in Seattle, Luca? Who knows your parents… went downstairs?”

Luca nods. “Momma said to go to a man named Tom. He knows me. He’s gonna take care of me, until Momma and Daddy and Sophie get back from upstairs,” Luca explains, proud of himself. Suddenly, his face falls. “Oh no! I wasn’t s’posed to tell!”

Lena smiles what she hopes is a kind smile. “It’s okay, _diabhal beag_. I won’t tell.”

Luca smiles at her and takes a sip of his chocolate milk. “ _Go raibh maith agat_.”

\---

That night, it’s a two-to-one vote to stay in the car instead of driving to a motel, and Kara grumbles about it for a solid hour.

“You know, we have plenty of money, and I saw a really nice bed-and-breakfast down the road with complimentary brunch…” she says for the third time that night. “Complimentary brunch, Lena!”

Lena rolls her eyes. “We’re wanted criminals, Kara.”

“We went into that diner earlier.”

Lena doesn’t have a comeback for that one, so she stays quiet and fixes her pillow underneath her head.

They’re sleeping in the front seats of the car, reclined all the way back. It’s a little uncomfortable, but hardly more than Luca’s makeshift bed, the backseat (even though he was out like a light the second they stopped driving).

“Have you done this before?” Kara asks after a moment of silence. “Slept in your car?”

Lena knows she means while she’s been on the road, but she takes the question literally anyway. “Once. When I was fifteen, my mother caught me wearing an outfit she deemed… inappropriate, and sent me out of the house for the night. I went to the repair shop where I worked and spent the night there, in the bed of one of the trucks. Not the most comfortable sleep I’ve ever had, but it was pretty quiet. No maniacal screaming.”

“Lex?” Kara questions, and Lena nods, her hair making rustling noises against the seat.

“Yeah. He used to do experiments late at night, when he thought no one was paying attention. He never used test patients. I think… I think the screams were his.”

Kara doesn’t say anything after that. Lena sighs. _Well, it’s final. I’ve frightened her off now._

“You should never have had to live with someone like that,” Kara says in the end. 

“Why not?” Lena asks. “I’m just as bad as he is, doing what I’m doing.”

Kara shakes her head. “Because you just said that? No. You’re not.”

“Can I ask?” Kara says, after a moment of silence. “Why are you doing this?”

Lena stares straight ahead, unwilling to give anything away. “I honestly don’t know. That’s what scares the hell out of me.”

“That you aren’t in control?”

“No. That I am, and this is the decision I made.”

Kara stares at the ceiling. “I get that. Sort of.”

Lena sighs, turning her head. “You must think I’m such a spoiled little brat, ruining people’s lives and being all evil.”

Kara shrugs. “I’ve met worse people. I mean, I don’t approve of the whole ‘pillage-and-plunder’ thing at all, but it’s… it is what it is. And you’re helping Luca, which is a good thing.”

Lena stares ahead, trying to calm her racing heartbeat. “I just wish I knew how to be good. I wish… sometimes I wish I’d died with my mother, just so I would have never learned how to be a Luthor.”

Kara doesn’t say anything back. Lena’s pretty sure she’s fallen asleep.

She hasn’t. 

\---

“What happened, Lena?” Luca’s leaning over the backseat of the car, staring at the two women in front.

They’re stuck in a rut, a few inches away from a bend in the road. Lena had been driving when there was a loud popping noise, a hiss, and then they had slid into the shoulder and were now resolutely cemented in the dirt.

“I… think we lost a tire.” Lena sighs, hitting her hands on the wheel. “Mother-”

“Not in front of the kid!” Kara scolds, and Lena glares at her. “Okay, so, we need to change the tire. Do you have a spare?”

Lena nods. “I do, but I can’t change it here. We need to be somewhere flat.”

Kara thinks for a moment, then nods. “Okay. Okay. Why don’t me and Luca get out and push the car up, and then you can change the tire? What do you say, big guy?” she asks Luca, who cheers and scrambles out of the car and on to the hot pavement.

“Kara, I really don’t think that’s going to- and, you’re going for it. Okay.” Lena sighs as Kara slides out of the car and positions herself and Luca at the trunk. Distantly, she hears Kara say “on three,” and then there’s a lurch, and the car shifts about an inch.

“I think we need more power!” Lena hears Kara yell. “Can you do more power?” 

Luca cheers, and Lena rolls her eyes at their childish antics.

“C’mon, Lena, give us more power!” Kara calls, and Lena hears Luca chime in.

They neg her until she finally gives them a rev of the engine and a cheer from the front.

In the end, it takes them twenty minutes to get out of the ditch, but both Kara and Luca are smiling, and that’s really all that matters.

\---

It’s warmer that night, so Lena forgoes the discomfort and drags a blanket out to the hood of the car, surrendering the backseat again to Luca, for absolutely no reason at all (it’s definitely not because he looks so peaceful and adorable nestled up back there, nope, not at all). 

She’s lying there, staring up at the sky, and mostly, she’s regretting. She’s regretting running away, she’s regretting lying, she’s regretting stealing, she’s regretting, and it’s strange.

Regretting was never really something she did, before. She never really knew how. She was raised to defend her decisions to her dying breath, and Luthors don’t apologize. She had always been the ruthless one, the tough nail, the one who was always right, but only a few days in the company of someone else who was so purely _good_ had her, well… drinking the Kool-Aid. 

She can hear Kara, a few feet away, on the phone with somebody; she doesn’t know who. There’s anger and frustration in her voice; it seems like she’s arguing, and Lena wants to help. She wants to tell the person on the other end of the phone that Kara is right, Kara is always right. Kara is _good._

Kara, meanwhile, is struggling to keep her wits about her.

“Alex, I know what you’re going to say-”

“Hell yeah, you know what I’m going to say! You’re shacking up with the criminal, the _Luthor_ , I asked you to chase down?”

“I wouldn’t say shacking up, we’re just- Alex, come on. There were men with guns chasing us. I had to go with her.”

“And now? Is it still not safe?”

Kara looks at Lena, asleep on the hood of the car, then at Luca, curled up in the backseat and snuggling his teddy bear.

“Now… now there are extenuating circumstances.”

She can hear Alex’s scoff. “Extenuating circumstances. Yeah, right.” There’s a sigh, a scuffle, and then Alex says, “You’re always talking about how you want to be a big reporter, how you want to get the bylines and do real, important things, and you get a chance and suddenly there are ‘extenuating circumstances.’” A pause. “You know, Clark would be really disappointed in you.” She hangs up.

Kara stares down at the phone in her hand, disbelief seeping through her. Alex has _never_ pulled the Clark card on her, not once in their whole childhood.

“You okay?” Lena calls, and Kara knows she wasn’t asleep.

“Yeah, I’m all good.” She meanders over to the car, leans back on the hood and stares into the sky.

“Trouble in paradise?” Lena asks, patting the hood beside her so Kara can scoot up and lie more comfortably. Her feet still dangle off the side, though, almost hitting the dirt.

“No, it’s… it’s my sister.” Lena nods, but doesn’t say anything, and there’s a long stretch of silence. “Have you ever thought you could trust someone, and then it turned out to be a lie?”

“Is that what happened?”

“No, and, well, yes. I think that she thinks I’m lying to her. It’s… complicated.”

“And are you?”

“No. I don’t think so.” Kara looks back at Luca again. “Well, maybe.”

After a moment, Lena sighs. “I think that in any relationship there has to be a healthy amount of distrust. That way, the other person doesn’t think they can… I don’t know, that way, you won’t be hurt as much when they ultimately _do_ betray you.”

“Okay, Machiavelli.” Kara chuckled.

“My mother did always say it was better to be feared than to be loved.” Lena laughs. “I thought she was so wise until I picked up a copy of The Prince in seventh grade.”

They chuckle together for a moment, but then Kara speaks. “I don’t think you should do that. I don’t think you should lie to someone you love. Love means trust, and trust is the antithesis of lying.”

Lena shrugs, scrunches up her face. “Maybe. Maybe you’re right. Maybe it doesn’t matter at all.” She rolls over to face Kara. “Let’s change the subject. What do you do for a living?”

“Direct.” Kara laughs at her. “I’m… a writer, I guess.”

“What kind of writer?” Lena probes. 

“Just… all kinds.” It’s vague, a little too vague, but if Lena had her druthers, she’d be vague as well. She lets it go, pretends she can trust Kara, pretends this won’t end terribly, lets herself _believe_ , for once, that she’ll get the happy ending.

“Okay, so you’re a writer, you love to eat… what about… favorite animal?”

“Dogs.” Kara nods definitively. “They’re cuddly.”

“That’s… not untrue.” Lena looks almost ashamed to be admitting it, and it makes Kara’s heart clench in a way that confuses her. “I’m partial to chinchillas, myself.”

She says it so deadpan that Kara gives her a questioning look. “I’m kidding,” Lena shakes her head. “I’m more of a cat person.”

They talk of trivial things in the dark, books and movies and childhood idiosyncrasies as night settles around them and bugs chirp in the tall grass.

“My mother used to sing that to me,” Lena says as Kara hums a tune. “When I was little.”

“Your mother sang to you?” Kara questions.

“Not Lillian, my real mother. My birth mother. She was Irish; she loved her folk music.”

“I’m sorry,” Kara says. 

“No, don’t apologize. I’ve made my peace. It happened quickly; Everything was fine, and then one day I woke up and she was just… gone. The adoption people took me, and then Lionel found me at the orphanage and took me to America.” Lena wraps her arms around her legs and sighs. “You know, I always wondered what it would have been like if she had never died. If I hadn’t ended up… poisoned.”

“You’re not poisoned.” Kara says. “You, sitting here talking to me about stupid stuff like this? You, giving up a life of crime to take care of that little boy back there?” Lena scoffs, but smiles and ducks her head. “That’s not something a poisoned person would do.”

Lena looks up, and the shine in Kara’s eyes makes her want to be brave. “That’s something a good person would do-”

Kara doesn’t get to finish her sentence, because Lena cuts her off with a kiss.

It’s soft, and slow, and a little tentative, and Lena almost pulls away, almost, but then she feels a hand grasp the back of her neck and pull her closer, and another hand fist in the blanket around her shoulders, and she lets herself get dragged headfirst into the deep end.

And even though she feels like she’s poisoning the softest lips she’s ever felt, she doesn’t think she can stop.

She always was a selfish girl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _diabhal beag_ translates quite literally into "little devil." _Go raibh maith agat_ literally translates to "may you have goodness" but generally means "thank you."


	4. i'm put in awe of something so flawed and free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara gets a devious smile on, which she then decides she would very much like to press up against Lena’s face.
> 
> Lena has no complaints about this particular decision.
> 
> Until, of course, they hear a shuffling on the backseat, and then Luca, ever the cold shower of a child, whining “I want pancakes!” in a very loud, very aggressive voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome back, folks! it's been a hot second, but i'm feeling top-shelf again! *coughs and trips over nothing* never mind. ignore that. anyway, enjoy much expositional talking and some thorough angst!
> 
> title from movement by hozier.

Lena wakes up in strong, warm arms, sighs, rolls over, cuddles closer to Kara’s front, and then suddenly remembers where she is and what she’s doing.

It had felt so normal, so right, to be there, with Kara, that she had forgotten she was asleep on the hood of a car and they were on the run from police and family mercenaries.

Suddenly petrified, Lena pulls back slowly and looks at Kara’s peaceful face, taking in each minute detail, afraid she might never see it this close again. Yes, they had talked last night, and yes, Kara didn’t seem to regret any of what they’d done (the kissing, of which there was _a lot_ ), but Lena was someone who tended towards the “flight” part of “fight or flight” and besides, there was no way Kara “I’m perfect and wonderful” Danvers would ever want to stay with _her_ , Lena Luthor, criminal and evil genius.

Except Kara yawns (quite adorably), blinks her eyes a few times, and then smiles when she opens them to see Lena still lying there.

“Hey,” she says, voice scratchy from sleep, and that should absolutely _not_ be tugging on Lena’s heartstrings the way it is. 

“Hey yourself.”

“I thought you might take off in the dark like some sort of bandit-vigilante hybrid thing.”

Lena snorts. “I’m already a bandit. I don’t need a dashing escape under the cover of darkness for that.”

“True.” Kara rolls onto her back, staring up at the morning sky. “So… about last night.”

Lena matches Kara’s position, her heart suddenly beating very fast for _no reason, none at all_ , her body betraying her when it came to the _play it cool_ part of jumping into a, albeit very oddly timed and probably horribly circumstanced, relationship. “About last night.”

“It was nice,” Kara says, and then keeps going, seemingly unwilling to let Lena get a word in edgewise, “and it was a good… break, from everything else, and I know we talked about it then and you said you didn’t regret anything and I said I didn’t regret anything, but now it’s the light of day and emotions aren’t quite as high and this might be an impulsive, colossally bad idea so I just wanted to check and make sure-”

“Kara?” Lena turns to look at the rambling blonde, who gives her the most deer-in-headlights look she’s ever seen. “I still feel the same way I did last night.”

“Oh. Okay.” With that, Kara gets a devious smile on, which she then decides she would very much like to press up against Lena’s face.

Lena has no complaints about this particular decision.

Until, of course, they hear a shuffling on the backseat, and then Luca, ever the cold shower of a child, whining “I want pancakes!” in a very loud, very aggressive voice.

“Do you think we should go get some breakfast?” Kara asks, and Lena nods, chuckling, forehead pressed against Kara’s, hand tangled in her hair.

“Maybe.”

\---

Holding hands with Kara, which Lena is now doing a lot, is making it very hard for her to drive. 

Not she’s complaining, because holding hands with Kara also makes her feel warm and fuzzy and sort of staticky all over, all things a hardened criminal, such as herself, should not be feeling when faced with a blonde somewhat akin to a puppy, and _goddamn it_ she has gotten very attached, very quickly.

Luca is also a very big fan of hanging over the backs of the seats and talking very loudly about things, things like trucks they pass on the highway and also the money that is strewn rather haphazardly all over the glove compartment and passenger’s side of the car and also the propensity Kara has to sing very loudly to songs on the radio, which then causes Luca to join in, which then causes them to make Lena sing along, until she starts to feel sort of domestic and very soft inside, and that is when her flight response starts beeping like a goddamn fire alarm and she turns the radio down and tries to get her thoughts in order.

Kara Danvers is like a shock to her cold, lonely system, and it’s turned her whole world upside down. Lena Luthor should not enjoy singing in the car. Lena Luthor should not enjoy anything, ever. Lena Luthor should be cold-hearted, and stone-faced, and diligent, and evil.

Except the farther she drives from her family, the less evil she feels.

The farther she drives from her family, the more she wants to just keep driving until her and Kara and Luca can settle down somewhere, maybe far up in northern Canada, and just exist, and maybe Lena can open an autobody repair shop, and Kara can work for the local newspaper, and Luca can go to school and read more about trucks and maybe he can stop by the shop some days, and the longer Lena spends imagining this future, the more she knows she will never be able to let it go.

And that’s what scares her.

\---

Lena finally lets them stay at a motel that night, citing the reason that “I’d rather sleep with you in a bed than on a car hood,” and while the meaning of that is most likely very chaste, Kara is still blushing for a solid hour afterwards imagining all the possible connotations.

Being at a motel, however, does allow her the chance to do what she’s been itching to do for days: call her cousin.

Being on the road has been surprisingly… nice. Lena found a rundown ATM and was able to get a deposit out of the one bank account she can access that hasn’t been locked already, which means there has been no more surreptitious robbing of convenience stores or gas stations, which Kara appreciates. Lena says it’s because the cops are on to them, but Kara just thinks goodness is rubbing off on her.

They’ve been enjoying each other’s company, kissing when they think Luca won’t notice (he almost always does), and talking about everything and nothing. Lena still knows practically nothing about Kara’s family, or her job, but Kara thinks that’s for the best. She hardly thinks the Luthor would take well to finding out she’s been canoodling with a journalist whose cousin is the man who tried to take her brother down the summer before.

The only thing that concerns her, however, is Luca.

Yes, he… _sort of_ explained why he needed to go to Seattle, and Lena seems to trust him, but some of the things he’s been saying, about his home and his life, have Kara on edge. He talks about his mother like she was a secret agent, unable to say anything about her life before him, and while he seems to understand his parents aren’t coming back, he keeps referring to it as “going downstairs.” Not to mention he needs to go to a man named Tom in Seattle, of which there are probably thousands. Plus, the fact that he’s at least semi-fluent in Gaelic, a language Lena said she only knows because her birth mother used it with her when she was growing up in Ireland, and it’s one of the only connections she has to her. The whole thing just screams _fishy_ to Kara, and if there’s anyone she knows who can fish out (pun not intended) a conspiracy, it’s Clark Kent. 

“Hey, little cousin,” Clark says when he picks up the phone. “What’s up?” He sounds harried, and busy, his voice strained. There’s a lot of noises in the background, phones ringing and yelling and something crashing. Kara can picture him standing in the chaos of the Daily Planet newsroom, running a hand through his hair.

“Not much. I just… I had a few questions.” Kara’s hesitant. Lena and Luca stepped out for some lunch, but she hung behind, claiming she didn’t feel well. She only has a few minutes until they come back.

“Okay, well, we’re sort of swamped here, with the whole Lex Luthor thing, so, if it’s not that important…” Clark trails off, and there’s the sound of him yelling to someone else. “Sorry, we’re just… we’re busy.”

“I know. I’m sorry about what happened.” Kara flounders for a moment. “Listen, it is important. It’s about a… about a story, sort of.”

“Kara, if you need writing advice right now, I don’t really think I have the time-”

“It’s about Lena Luthor.”

Clark stops. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I’m on the road with Lena Luthor right now. I just… I have some questions. Not all about her, just… please?”

Clark sounds interested now. A door shuts on his end; Kara imagines him going off in private. “What do you need to know?”

Kara pauses. “Well, you see, we found this kid.”

“A kid, Kara? Really?”

“Yes, really! We found this kid, and his name is Luca, and apparently, his whole family died, right? And we’re right outside of San Bernardino, and he needs to get to Seattle because apparently there’s some guy there his mother trusted, and somehow, he knows all about Lena’s native language, Gaelic, and, I mean, a lot of people know Gaelic, probably, but he’s just a kid, and it’s a little weird, and-”

“Hold on, hold on. Slow down. You said you found a kid, just outside of San Bernardino, whose whole family has been murdered, and he speaks Gaelic?”

“Yeah.”

“How old is he? Eight, nine?”

“Sounds about right.”

Clark blows out a deep breath. “And he says his mother knew a man in Seattle? Someone he could go to?”

“Yeah, she told him to find a guy named Tom.”

There’s silence on the other end of the phone, then Clark starts talking low, urgently. “Okay, what I’m about to tell you, you can never repeat to anyone, understand me?” 

Kara agrees, somewhat reluctantly. She didn’t call Clark for government secrets, she just needed advice.

“When I was doing my digging into the Luthor case last summer, I came across some info about Lena Luthor. Turns out, she’s adopted.”

“Right, I knew that.”

“Yeah, but, what most people don’t know, is that Lionel Luthor was her real father.” Kara gasps. “About twenty or so years back, Lionel’s on a business trip in Ireland. Sleeps with this college student, the woman gets pregnant, and Lionel runs back to America. The woman gives birth and raises her daughter for three years in a tiny town in Wicklow before she just disappears. The girl is found, taken to an orphanage, and Luthor mysteriously shows up and takes her back to Metropolis. You with me so far?”

“Yeah,” Kara says.

“So, I start following this woman. I see if she has any more ties to the Luthors, or any information. But she’s a dead end. She disappeared, left her daughter, and never showed up again. At least, not until about five years later, when she suddenly appears again in Luthor records. Apparently, the family sent a hitman after her all those years ago, and she went into hiding. She wants to see her daughter again, though, so she travels to Metropolis, tries to get to her. The Luthors block her from Lena and threaten her if she ever tries to see her again. But this mom is persistent, right? So she stays in America, and eventually, she gets married again, and has another daughter, this time when Lena’s eleven. The girl’s name is Sophie. And everything’s fine, and about four years later, they have a son. The son’s name is Luca.”

Another gasp from Kara. “The Luca I know?”

“The Luca you know. He’s Lena’s half-brother.”

“What about the hitmen?”

“Well, that’s the thing. When I started looking into the Luthors, I found a bunch of payments, not only to mercenaries to find this family, but also support payments from times they were in trouble. Lionel wanted this kept quiet, but I think he also felt bad about the whole thing. Anyway, when I’m doing my research, I bring some of this stuff to the Luthors, just quietly, along with my fraud allegations and the like. And they go off on me, and I mean _go off_. Threatening, weapons, the whole deal.”

“Oh, Clark.”

“It’s not a big deal. I mean, it’s why I do this job, isn’t it? But I decide I want to deal with this, so, I bring the Luthors to court under charges of fraud and similar stuff and I try to find a way to get the hitmen off of Lena’s mom’s back. I can’t get a legal way around it, but I win, the Luthors are fined, and now they know I’m onto them. I think it’s over.”

Kara puts a hand over her mouth. “But it wasn’t over.”

“No. At this point, Lionel’s dead, right? But Lex isn’t. He finds out about what his father did, and he’s pissed. He lets me go ahead with the charges and takes the fines as a cover, and then he starts planning. For something a hell of a lot bigger.”

“The attacks in Metropolis.”

“Yes, but no. Those were partly a cover, I think, for what he really wanted: to track down Lena’s mom and kill her. I’ve been looking into it this week: there was a murder just outside of San Bernardino the week before the attacks. Three unidentified men, only eyewitness is an elderly neighbor. The mom, the dad, and the sister didn’t make it. Full house.”

Kara’s picking up the pieces. “Except Luca was still inside.”

“Exactly. I checked with a source; I think the kid was hiding in a closet or something when the men came. After they left, he comes out, and his mom tells him something before she dies.”

“To go see Tom in Seattle, right?”

“Probably. But get this: all the payments concerning Lena’s mom went through a former Luthor bodyguard who was with Lionel in Ireland, this guy named Tom Waits. He stayed close to Lena’s mom after everything, and he was her only connection to the Luthor family. He disappeared up north two years ago, and there’s been no trace of him since.”

“Tom is a Luthor mercenary?”

“No, a bodyguard. Worked closely with Lionel, and after Lena was adopted, was her personal bodyguard for close to six years, until she went off to boarding school.”

Kara paces across the room, turns around. “Holy crap. So Luca is Lena’s half-brother, and the Luthor family is after them not just because they want Lena back, but because we now have the only remnants of a scandal from over twenty years ago? And you’re the only person who knew all of this?”

“The only living soul.” Something crashes on Clark’s end. “Listen, it really is busy here, and I have to go. Say hi to your sister for me. And, Kara?”

“Yeah?”

“Please, whatever you do, stay out of trouble. I don’t want you getting hurt because you’re in something way over your head.”

“I will,” Kara lies through her teeth. “Love you, cuz.”

“Love you too, Kara.”

She hangs up the phone and takes a deep breath. “Wow.”

“Wow, indeed,” a voice says behind her, and Kara spins to see Lena, standing in the doorway, arms crossed. “When were you planning on telling me you were friendly with Clark Kent?”

\---

“It’s not what you think,” Kara tries to say, but Lena’s had enough.

“Oh, really? You weren’t going behind my back to give the Daily Planet the first exclusive about the wayward Luthor daughter and her greatest fears? Plus, all that bullshit about my mother?”

“No!” Kara says, as Lena turns away. “I didn’t know any of that about your mother until I called Clark, which I only did for advice! We need to know who Tom is, and I thought he might be able to help us.”  
“And did he? Help you get a winning byline?”

Kara looks hurt. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m not an idiot, Kara. You said you were a writer and you know Clark Kent. I figured you were a reporter, but I was letting it go because I…” she trails off. “Because I actually believed that someone liked me without caring about who I was. That someone saw past my last name.”

“I did! I- I do!” Kara protests. “I still do, Lena. I don’t care about your family, I care about you. I didn’t know about anything, and I wasn’t fishing for some exclusive!”

“Oh, right, like I’ll believe you. What was that you said about trust? That you have to be able to trust someone, lest it turns out to be a lie?”

“Oh yeah, and you think there should be distrust in a relationship!”

“Not this much! Not so I feel like you’re using me.” Lena sighs, scuffs her feet against the carpet. “Is that what you were calling your sister about? Writing an article about me?”

“No, no. My sister’s a cop, she’s trying to find us. I was telling her to get off of our path, that everything was fine.”

Lena scoffs. “Oh, and your sister’s a cop? What else were you not going to tell me until it was convenient for you and you were slapping me in handcuffs?”

“Nothing! Lena, you have to believe me, I never lied. I just… omitted the truth.”

“Yeah.” Lena nods, swallows. “I’ve had a lot of people omit the truth from me, Kara. It seems you’re just like the rest of them.”

There’s a long pause, Lena with her back turned, and then she speaks. "It's too soon for me to be feeling like this, isn't it?"

Kara frowns, then sighs. "Like what?'

"Betrayed. Like... my heart has been ripped out of me. Or some sentimental crap like that." Lena kicks at the ground, then peers down the hall. There's a moment of silence, then she speaks.“What was the name of the bodyguard? The one Luca’s… my mom told us to find?” Her breath is tight, and Kara can imagine the pain on her face. She wants to reach out, but it’s too soon, too much and not enough at the same time. Her hand reaches out, just a little.

“Lena, you don’t need to do this. We can talk it out, and you must be feeling awful, with all this stuff about your mom-”

“What was the name, Kara?”

Kara pauses, sticks her hands in her pockets, rocks on her heels. “Tom Waits. In Seattle.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Lena reaches into her pocket and throws Kara a wad of bills. “Get your stuff out of the car. Luca and I will drive to Seattle, and you can head home. You’ve got an award-winning article to write, anyway.”

“Lena, please-” But she’s already gone.


	5. rare is this love (keep it covered)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam gives Kara a look that holds more weight than it probably should. “Go get your girl, Danvers,” she says, and Kara shoots her a grateful smile. “I’ll be right out here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sam arias is here! i'm sorry if this is short, but the final chapter should be longer and will hopefully provide a satisfying conclusion.
> 
> title from run by hozier (amazing there are still hozier songs left to pull lyrics from, at this point).

And so Kara ends up in Alex’s driveway, only partially sure of how she got there and regretting her decision to come entirely.

It’s the middle of a weekday, so Ruby is at school and everyone else at work, and the street is deserted except for a next-door neighbor mowing his lawn with an intense expression that has Kara a little intimidated. She just doesn’t get suburban people.

She decides to step up and ring the doorbell anyway, just to make sure. To her absolute surprise, a call of “just a minute!” rings out from inside, and suddenly Kara is face to face with Sam Danvers-Arias, whose smile is bright enough to power a whole city, and then some.

“Kara!” Sam immediately pulls her into a one-armed hug. “To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing my favorite sister-in-law?”

Kara is dirty, wearing Walmart bargain bin clothes, hair unkempt and glasses smeared with days-old dust, and holding a half-empty messenger bag containing her only current worldly possessions, and Sam is looking at her like she showed up holding a casserole, ready for dinner, and honestly, Kara has never felt more at home.

“It’s been… a bit of a time.” Kara says, blowing a strand of hair out of her face. 

“I’ll say.” Sam sighs. “Well, come in. It’s hot outside and I’ve got brownies chilling in the fridge.

As Kara enters the cool house, shutting the door behind her, Sam pulls the brownies out and sets them on the kitchen island. “Ruby has a soccer game out of town this weekend, so I came home early to make snacks. Callie Lopez’s mom will never know what hit her,” she chuckles, grabbing a glass of lemonade and a straw and placing it in front of Kara. She may feel a little like an immature child being fed after a long day of school, but after the couple of weeks she’s had, she sure isn’t complaining. “So, what brings you by?”

Kara takes a deep breath. “Well, I met this girl and she’s sort of a fugitive and we found a little boy who’s sort of her brother and then she got mad at me and now I have nowhere to go.”

Sam laughs at Kara for a moment. “Okay. Breathe, sweetie, breathe, and start from the beginning.”

So Kara does. She tells Sam the whole story, beginning to end, and even though she came here to talk to her sister, Sam’s smile is genuine and her questions are sincere, and by the end of it all, Kara feels a lot lighter than she did walking through the door.

“So you found the girl Alex has been tailing.” Sam whistles low, under her breath. “She’s gonna be pissed when she finds out where you’ve been hiding.”

“She can’t!” Kara exclaims. “Lena may expect that of me, but I would never rat her out, not to anyone. We have to wait, at least, for them to get to Seattle. Alex can’t know where they are.”

Sam nods, long and slow, then says, “where’d you leave your car?”

Kara squints. “Back at the gas station where they caught us, I think. Lena drove away and we never went back.”

Sam thinks for a moment, then says, “I think that’s only a few miles from here. We’ll get your car, get you a change of clothes, then we’ll go find Lena. She’s clearly important to you.”

Kara sputters. “She’s not- She’s not important! I could care less!”

Sam gives her a look. “Right. Well, in any case, we can’t leave her alone for long if her kleptomaniac tendencies are anything to go by. She probably needs constant supervision.”

Kara is floored by Sam’s willingness to help. “What about your soccer snacks?”

Sam rolls her eyes. “Callie Lopez’s mom can stuff it. I bet she never tracked down a fugitive and a young child in the desert.”

\---

After an adventure in arguing with the gas station attendants to get her car back, driving around town to find a garage, buying yet _more_ bargain bin clothes from Walmart, and driving again for far too long, Kara sees a familiar car at an oldies diner a few exits past the motel they had been staying at.

“There. I think that’s her.” Kara points, and Sam pulls over. She gives Kara a look that holds more weight than it probably should. “Go get your girl, Danvers,” she says, and Kara shoots her a grateful smile. “I’ll be right out here.”

Kara walks into the diner with heavy feet and a vibrating heart she can almost hear in her ears. A smiling blonde waitress greets her at the door, Angie, her name tag says, but Kara can barely make out what she’s saying as she cranes her neck for any sign of Lena or Luca.

“I’m sorry, I… I’m looking for someone…” Kara trails off when a familiar jawline and head of raven hair flash past her eyes. Lena’s outside, holding Luca’s hands and walking with him to the car.

In a flash (which almost generates enough wind to knock Angie to her feet), Kara is outside in the parking lot, and Lena has stopped dead and is staring at her. Kara suddenly begins to think that this may be a bad idea.

“Hey,” she says.

“Hey,” Lena returns. Luca smiles and runs to meet her. 

“Hiya, Kara!” He says, hugging her around the middle. She pats his hair.

“Hey, kid,” she says. Then, to Lena, “can we talk?”

Lena bites her lip, looks at Luca, looks at her, then finally says, “run on back to the car, okay, _macushla_?”

Luca acquiesces and skips off in the direction of the Cortina. Lena steps closer, imperceptibly so. “Yeah?” she asks.

Kara takes her in. She’s wearing a long button-down red flannel with cut-off sleeves, and shorts that you can barely see under the overly large shirt. Her sunglasses are on top of her head, and her eyes are red and raw, like she’s been crying. Her hair is a mess, and there’s a scratch on her cheek Kara doesn’t remember there being before.

Lena must notice her staring. “We ran into some thugs on the way here. I shot them off, but they scared Luca.”

Kara sucks in a breath, hates the way Lena says _I shot them off_ like it happens every day because it doesn’t, it shouldn’t. “Are you okay?”

“Why do you care?” Lena scuffs the pavement with her toe, and she looks like such a forlorn, lost teenager that it causes Kara’s heart to ache. “You left us alone, you couldn’t give two shits-”

“You told me to leave!”

“I didn’t think you actually would!”

There’s a beat of silence, then Kara speaks. “I didn’t want to.” Then, “Lie, that is. I wanted to tell you the truth, but I also wanted you to trust me.”

“Those aren’t exactly mutually exclusive,” Lena deadpans. “In fact, most would consider them to be codependent on one another.”

“Yeah, so tell me what you would have done if I had told you I was a reporter, or, god forbid, related to Clark Kent a few days into our impromptu road trip. I highly doubt you would have kept me in the car for long.”

Lena cracks a small smile at that. “Yeah, I can be a bit of a hellion sometimes”

“Just a bit.” Kara smiles, takes a step closer. “I wish I had had more courage to tell you the truth. I wish I could have been braver.”

Lena bites her lip. Through her mind spins the past few days, the joy she hasn’t felt in forever, the smile on Kara’s lips when she’d kiss her, the first pleasant dream she’s had since she was a child and waking up from it and realizing Kara was no longer there. She sighs. 

“You swear you’re not writing any expose on the troublesome Luthor daughter?”

Kara raises her hands. “Promise. You can even check my laptop.”

Lena moves in just a little closer. “I don’t exactly believe you, but…” she looks to Luca in the car. “That kid needs your help, too. And… I want to know what happened to my mom. The whole story.”

“Done,” Kara says. “I’ll call Clark again, he’ll tell you everything.”

“Okay.” Lena bites her lip, leans just that tiny bit closer. Kara’s staring, she’s moving in, she almost thinks-

Lena takes a step back and nods resolutely. “Then get your stuff, stud, cause we’re heading back on the road.”

There’s a clapping noise from inside the diner. Both women whip their heads to see Angie the waitress applauding ferociously.

“Gee, girls!” She says, hands on her hips. “That was like something out've a movie!”

Kara snorts and Lena glares. “Just get your stuff,” she growls and stomps off towards the car. Kara grins at her, feeling, somehow, that she’s going to win her back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a hundred points to the respective hogwarts house of the person who can guess where the cameo of waitress angie is from.


	6. lord, it'd be great to find a place we could escape sometime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lena tangles her hands in blonde hair, smiles a little at the mewling sounds Kara makes when she scratches her scalp. She only had it for a little while, but returning to Kara makes her feel like coming home, warmth and center and comfort where her cold heart once lay.
> 
> The sun is half down, it’s warm and Kara is soft, and Lena is leaning for a kiss when she sees something out of the corner of her eye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy supercorp sunday! in celebration, here is the exciting finale to the... outlaw/road trip/adopted child au? i don't really know, but it's done. happy reading!
> 
> title is from jackie and wilson by hozier (the secondary song inspiration for the fic, after from eden).

There’s tension in the car, thick enough that Kara thinks even a knife wouldn’t go through.

Lena is driving, her hands tight against the steering wheel. Luca is napping in the backseat, so the radio plays on low, a classic rock station that fades in and out as they get farther north.

The land they’re driving through is barren. They’re still hours from Seattle, and Kara doesn’t think she can handle it if she has to stir in this… weirdness for much longer.

“All right, lay it on me. You’re still angry.”

Lena hasn’t said much since they’ve gotten back in the car. Mostly, she had her thinking face on, and she was paying strict attention to the road. Now, she opens her mouth and closes it a few times.

“I’m fine,” she says, finally, and Kara rolls her eyes.

“No, you’re not.”

“I am!”

“Lena, I know you, and you’re not fine. This is not you fine.”

“You don’t know me at all, Kara,” Lena snaps, and it goes silent again. Luca rolls over on the backseat and snores a little. It makes Lena smile despite herself.

They sit in silence for another few miles. Kara twiddles her thumbs, scrunches up her lips, looks everywhere except Lena. It’s awkward. It shouldn’t be.

“It feels like it’s all been a lie,” she says after a moment. “Everything I was told, everything I knew about myself. I feel like everyone around me has been in on this big joke and I was the punchline.”

Kara bites her lip. What can she say? _I know how you feel. I’m sorry. I wish I could make it better._ Those words are hollow, she knows this. Lena will bat them away and they’ll go back to silence. That’s not what she needs.

“I know,” she settles on, and she must have gotten something right, because Lena’s lip quirks in the corner. She doesn’t look over, but she does grip the steering wheel a little less tight.

\---

By the time night hits, Lena is feeling better. At least, she’s feeling less like she wants to shoot someone (she’s out of bullets anyway) and more like she wants to sleep off the exhaustion and the fear and the confusion and just return to normal.

Never mind normal flew out the window when she robbed her first gas station.

They have enough money to stay in a cheap motel, but for old times’ sake, Lena stops at an empty house and breaks the screen door to get them in. Kara, for once, does not protest. It makes Lena smile triumphantly, even if no one sees it.

The sun is just barely going down, and the last vestiges of light shine into the linoleum kitchen, greens and oranges. Luca is having the time of his life, sprinting like a marathon runner around the hallways, playing with some toys abandoned on the ground. He collapses into an armchair with a box of cereal; Lena watches him softly for a moment. Somehow, she’s fallen in love with this little boy, her… her brother.

There’s that sinking feeling in her gut again, the something-is-wrong-but-I-don’t-know-what-it-is feeling. She wants it to go away. She wants to be happy, can see the shining door of it at the end of a long corridor, but for some reason her feet won’t move and she’s stuck a few paces away.

“Hey.” Kara beckons from a doorway, and the raven-haired woman turns. Lena sees a bed behind her. It looks welcoming, comfortable compared to the car seat she’s been sleeping in, and Kara is lean and soft and all smiley, and the dripping sunset makes Lena practically melt over to the bedroom.

They tangle in each other’s arms and fall onto the bed, Lena on top in Kara’s lap. She tangles her hands in blonde hair, smiles a little at the mewling sounds Kara makes when she scratches her scalp. She only had it for a little while, but returning to Kara makes her feel like coming home, warmth and center and comfort where her cold heart once lay.

The sun is half down, it’s warm and Kara is soft, and Lena is leaning for a kiss when she sees something out of the corner of her eye.

A light, a flash of metal. She’s up in an instant.

Kara leans back on her elbows, squinting to see.

Lena flicks back the curtains, hand to her mouth. “Kara,” she says. “Kara.”

“Luca!” Kara calls for him, and he comes running. Lena holds him close, crouches down under the window. Kara follows suit. They press themselves to the wall.

“What’s going on?” Luca asks.

Lena shushes him. “Be quiet, _macushla._ Quiet for just a second.”

There’s a banging on the wall. Lena flinches, closes her eyes tight. Someone yells outside, and there’s the sound of boots on the porch. Everything feels too loud. _This is it. This is the end._ There’s money in the car, and the gun. They’ll see it. Luca clutches at the bottom of her shirt. _Fuck, they’ll take him._

A hand winds its way into hers, warm and heavy. Kara.

She opens her eyes to see blue ones staring back at her, stable, holding, a port in a storm. Her body stops shaking.

Luca takes their hands in his, making a sandwich. He stays quiet, but he smiles up at them.  
The sign is clear. They’re in this together.

“Open up!” The voice is clear now, and Kara’s eyes are suddenly wide.

“Alex,” she breathes, and she’s up and running out the door before Lena can say anything, hand wrenching away, and there’s nothing she can do but wait and panic and listen for a gunshot.

She puts her hands over Luca’s ears just in case.

\---

When Kara steps onto the porch and into the yard, Alex is there with two other local cops. All three train their guns on her, and she raises her hands.

“Kara?” Alex says, almost as if she was expecting it. She lowers her gun, but the other two don’t.  
  
“Hey, Alex,” Kara smiles crookedly. 

“Courier, Maxwell, go back to the station. Tell them I’ve got Luthor and I’ll bring her into custody as soon as I’m done here.”

The two cops exchange looks, but they get into one of the cruisers.

Alex glares at Kara once they’re gone. “You know you have mercenaries on your tail?”

“Yes.”

“I dispatched them on my way here. They’re back in Zzyzx. You don’t need to worry about them anymore.”

“Thank you, Alex,” Kara says, and she means it.

Alex nods. “Don’t mention it.” She looks to the window. “Luthor in there? With the kid?”

Kara bites her lip. “It’s her brother, Alex. Luca is her brother.”

Alex lets out a low whistle. “That’s a rough one. I’d love to hear that story one day.” Wordlessly, she pivots on a heel and aims her gun at the window.

“Alex, wait!” Kara yells, but she fires.

The bullet hits the gutter and lodges in the wall. Alex turns again and aims at her windshield, shattering the corner and lodging the bullet in the seat. Kara stares, wordless, as Alex leans in the open window of the cruiser, digs the bullet out of the upholstery, and chucks it into the horizon.

“I found you, but you were too quick. There was a shootout while I was driving away. You’re up in Washington now. Out of jurisdiction.”

Kara is breathless. “Thank you, Alex.”

“Get Luthor and get out of here, before the other two hear the gunshots and circle back.”

Kara runs. Behind her, she hears Alex say “and if you ever drag my wife into your schemes again, I know twelve very painful ways to break your fingers!”

\---

In the end, it’s all rather anticlimactic.

They get the address of Tom Waits’ last job, a gym near the coast, from Clark, and the manager tells them the last place he lived. When they get there, however, it’s occupied by a sweet older couple who only know Tom Waits as the man who was willing to sell his apartment for a thousand dollars, cash.

There’s no paper trail, and nothing online. Even Clark is out of leads. Tom Waits is gone.

Lena is sitting on a bench in Waterfront Park, Luca curled into her side, shivering in the wind. Kara went off to get them some food from one of the food stalls. The sun is setting, and it’s suddenly, resolutely clear that whatever they thought they were going to find here is already long gone.

“Lena?”

“Yeah, _macushla_?”  
  
“What do we do now?”

Lena sighs. The wind blows her hair into her face, and the water slaps against the coast. It’s beautiful, in a sad sort of way.

She looks down at the little boy wrapped in her arms, the boy who she’s come to love, her _brother_. A brother who won’t go crazy and blow up buildings and try to kill her. A brother she can take care of.

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Kara coming towards them, carrying a tray of hot dogs and French fries and ketchup packets, sipping from a bottle of water. When she catches Lena’s eye, she grins and waggles her eyebrows. The raven-haired woman chuckles.

_This_ , she thinks, _this is what I was really looking for._

“We move on,” she tells Luca, but he’s asleep, clutching at her shirt and snoring softly.

\---

“Lena! Kara! Look!”

Luca almost kicks down the front door in his excitement, waving a piece of paper around like a madman. “What is it?” Kara asks, peeking around the corner of the kitchen.

“My report card!” Luca jumps up and down. His oversized backpack swings with the motion. “Miss Carter said it was one of the best in the class! She said she was proud of me!”

Lena comes in from the garage, wiping greasy hands off on a rag. “No sh-” Kara elbows her in the gut, “No shitake mushrooms, kid. You’re a smart one.” She leans down. “You got that from me.” Luca giggles when she kisses him on the nose.

“Technically, he would have gotten it from your mother, considering it’s her genes you both-” Lena shoots her a glare as she stands up, and Kara wilts. “Okay, sorry. Have your fun.”

Luca turns shy suddenly. “Lena?” He asks.

“Mhmm?” Lena is preoccupied with both washing her hands and the arms Kara is suddenly wrapping around her waist, but she nods.

“You said if I got good grades I could come work in the shop with you, right?”

Lena grins. “I did say that. Let me see that thing.”

She grabs the report card out of Luca’s hands and surveys the numbers while he waits patiently. After a long moment, she says, “well, kid, it seems I’ve got myself an autobody apprentice.”

Luca cheers and Kara scoops him up in a hug, and then Lena does the same, and finally, after all this time, it feels like home for all three of them.

**Author's Note:**

> come yell at me @amessofgaywords on twitter if you like.


End file.
